Dream in Silver
by Happy Monkey Gamma
Summary: Harry dreams of Snape, or perhaps it's with. Dark? Moody? Snarry.


_Fun thought of the moment_: I would not be surprised in the least if Snape had worn a hair shirt underneath all those fabulous robes his fangirls dress him up in.

Please comment and critique! C&C is love!! And this is really rough, so I, uh, apologize in advance for the lack of beta.

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_**Dream in Silver**_

He smelled quite rancid, like offal and fecal matter, like rotten dead things left out in the hot sun. It was utterly unappealing and made Harry recoil for a moment in spite of himself.

"What's wrong? No kiss?" The man leered, giving Harry a good look at the gaps in his crooked smile. There was still a bit of one of his bottom front teeth sticking out of the blackened gums.

"I don't want to cut myself on that thing you call a mouth," Harry said derisively as he took a good look at the man.

The man huffed out a dark laugh from the other side of the wrought iron bars. He was dressed in gray robes, standard issue, though they were black with grime and waste. They hung off his emaciated frame, falling off a shoulder to expose the sickly white skin stretched tightly over the bone. A silver pin gleamed incongruously from the robe's blackened lapel, the snake emblazoned on it poised as if to laugh at Harry at well.

"I remember when you died for want of this mouth," the man said, his face a malicious white mask framed by stringy, unkempt hair. His eyes were shadowed and sunken in; Harry could not see the black eyes hiding there, watching him, but he felt them.

"That was when you were still alive," Harry said, not denying the point, but merely stating the fact the man seemed to have forgotten.

"Ah, yes," the man said, sounding completely amused by the idea. "That is a valid point. Pity that it doesn't matter here." The man reached out, his skeletal hand as white and as dirty as the rest of him as it appeared from inside an overly long sleeve.

"Come in and chat, Harry," he said, his pale, long-nailed fingers flexed slowly for him. He grasped at Harry's robes, the red fabric of Harry's Auror robes vibrant in the white hand as he dragged Harry into his lap. There were no more iron bars between them; they faded away like so much smoke.

The smell was gone as well, replaced by the dank, musty scent of the Hogwarts dungeons. The man's robes were different now, replaced by familiar black wool that scratched at Harry's skin. Harry grasped at the man's shoulders, trying to pull himself away, but this was no sunken-eyed corpse holding him, but a man in his prime, however harsh and sallow that prime had been.

"You looked better when you were dead," Harry said, unable to push away from the man.

He merely raised a thin black eyebrow at the taunt. "Is that so?" he sneered, his pale lips thinning as they stretched a bit at the corner. His teeth were crooked and yellowed, but they were all there. His long, stained fingers carded through Harry's black hair and gripped at Harry's skull. The silver pin on Snape's robes winked at Harry as he tilted Harry's head the way he wished.

"No," he said, his black eyes boring into Harry's. There was both gentleness and hardness in his expression, like a stone brick wrapped in Egyptian cotton. "I think I fare much better at the moment, don't you?"

"Does it matter what I think?" Harry said. The man's breath smelled like ginger.

"Has it ever, Mr. Potter," the man said, scraping Harry's mouth as he kissed him. The taste of ginger was strong on his tongue as the man tilted Harry back. His hands were cold talons holding Harry under as he lapped and bit at Harry's mouth.

Harry groaned pitifully in the man's arms. His body shifted against the man's in agitation, unsure whether to demand an honest bit of frottage or to escape from the man's attentions.

Harry's hand gripped the man's lapel, the silver pin digging into his palm. "Snape," he whimpered as the man's mouth moved on to his throat, heedless of the collar of Harry's school robes.

"Snape," he said again, his voice no louder than a hiss and a moan in the dark as the dream faded away.

Harry awoke slowly, as if a cold fog was lifted from his eyes. It was still dark; the sun wouldn't rise for another hour, but the silver pin with the snake emblem in his hand winked in the gloom.

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What do you think? Please review! I'd really like to know :)


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